Swine and I have had a long and interesting relationship. I am fascinated by their rooting and grunting, and they are determined to embarrass me . I have observed my porcine neighbors from near and far, and they even more successfully have achieved their goal of making my life shall we say interesting.
My earliest encounter with pigs that ended badly for me was at the early age of five. Aunt Mary had long wanted to join the DAR and having had both the German- American rebels and the Hessians in our back ground all that remained was an interview. This was to take place one summer day at my aunt’s farm home and the preparations were extensive. The day arrived, the yard was perfect, the table under the big oak tree was laden with home made treats and heirloom china. My mother, aunt mary and my Grandmother were duly coiffed and garbed and so were my cousin Patty and I. We were dressed in the peter pan collared tied in back sashed gingham dresses of the era. Our feet sported new patent mary janes and ruffled bobbie sox. Our Hair was braided and bowed. We and everything else was perfect.
All of us went outside to await the DAR ,but being restless we asked for permission to take walk. Though leary about our ability to stay pristine, our mothers said we could go for awhile but told in no uncertain terms not to get our new dresses and shoes dirty. We solemnly and with good intent promised. Off we went.
We were fine until we hit the sow pen. Suzy the Poland china sow was a real pet who loved to have he back scratched and she and her pen companion Myrtle a Hampshire red, even allowed us to ride them. Temptation was high but so was our fear of getting our dressed dirty. Patty solved that problem. We could strip , hang the dresses on the lower branches of an old apple tree. The dresses would stay clean anwe could play “sowgirl” with abandon. So of course we did.
Not ten minutes later Aunt Mary called us to the house. We dismounted, washed our hands and only our hands under the pen’s faucet, donned our dresses, sox , shoes, tied each other’s sashes and walked the lane to the yard. Grandma sitting on the iron glider saw us first. She did not signal by so much as a gasp at the sight of us, but even today I would bet money her eyes filled with laughter. MY mother and Aunt Mary had an altogether different reactions to two muddy girls in almost clean dresses coming as called.